


The 18 of Sun's Dusk

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen, Humor, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 20:10:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11539563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: What if Nirn were like Thedas and Liv became the Inquisitor? A small collection of ficlets devoted to most ridiculous Inquisition issues.





	The 18 of Sun's Dusk

_ A/N: Liv is my TES original character and a protagonist of No Bitter End http://archiveofourown.org/works/7741375/chapters/17647585 _

The chamber where the Penitus Oculatus agents dragged Liv was cold and dim as those ancient caverns that falmers roam. The only source of light was a weak flickering fire of a torch attached to the wall behind Liv's back. With rusty heavy shackles that dug painfully into her skin she could not stir and now was sitting on a chilly stone floor under the eyes of watchful soldiers.

A  raven-haired woman clad in a set of heavy imperial armor  was pacing about a room not failing to cast a stern glare of her shrewd eyes at Liv. Then, she spoke breaking an uneasy silence that resided in the chamber.

“Are you a thalmor agent? Were that the justicars who sent you?”

“I'm no agent of anyone. I'm but a humble herbalist...”

“Don't you lie to me, nord,” hissed the woman. “Then how do you explain that everyone who assembled at High Hrothgar is dead except for you? You are the sole survivor of the explosion. And that glowing mark on your hand... It is most quaint.”

“I... I just don't have a vaguest idea about what happened and how I ended up there!” Liv replied bitterly.

“Enough!” she cut her off and then subsided again. For a moment she plunged to such a grieved reverie that Liv herself almost understood her anger and worries.

“We could have ended the Civil War had you not interfered,” she spoke again, “But now... Elisif, Ulfric... They are all gone and skies... The skies have been torn letting the creatures most bizarre to invade.”

The silence was broken once again as a hooded figure in chain armor appeared behind the woman's back.

“Just received a word from Thalmor ambassadors,” said the stranger who turned out to be a red-haired young woman with emerald eyes, “They deny any involvement of Aldmeri Dominion in the incident.”

« Of course, they do. No marvel if they also tell us that they know nothing of their Nord associate.”

“You are far too tough on her, Cassandra,” she pointed out, “She is confused as much as we are. Don't you see it?”

“Leliana, we cannot afford to be... Wait.” Cassandra looked at Leliana with squinty eyes,” Oh, I should have guessed that all along we were working for them. You are a traitor just like she is!”

“Cassandra, are you out of your mind?”

« You are all traitors!” Cassandra growled like an awakened dragon.

“Lady Cassandra, are you alright?” asked one of the agents.

“TRAITORS! TRAIRORS! TRAITORS! TRAITORS! TRAITORS! TRAITORS! TRAITORS!” Cassandra was running round the chamber inspiring an awe in the guards who seemed to be grim but now were shuddering like hens frightened by a thunder.

***

The Inquisitor and her comrades had been wandering across the Falkrith Hold for hours and found no sigh of the rift mentioned in numerous reports. It seemed as though the valley , where the trouble was supposed to be, had no boundaries at all and thus Liv's mind crossed a thought that they might have taken a wrong turn but she didn't hesitate to shake it off.

“There must be mistakes in the reports that the scouts have given us,” Cassandra remarked, “No way that the rift just vanished.”

“So, we trudged across an entire hold only for nothing? Disgusting,” whined Dorian.

“I'm starving – haven't had a bite since the morning. Oh, there's a village up ahead. Should we stop over?” Liv suggested.

No sooner did they enter the village they were greeted by an elderly man who seemed so crestfallen and woeful as though a storm swept his entire house.

“Lady Inquisitor,” he uttered, “May I have a word with you?”  
“Sure. Do you a have a problem?”

“Yes,” he replied, “We are in short supply of... underwear.”

“Underwear?” she raised an eyebrow, “Do you expect me to...”

She never finished the sentence as like a thunderbolt from a clear sky dozens of villagers flocked around the guests and started yelling like hungry  piglets .

“My hens got cold!”

“There's a rift under my bad!”

“My granny refuses to talk with me!”

“I can't find Wally!”

“I can't make dough for sweet rolls!”

“Dwarven crafts, fine dwarven crafts. Direct from Orzammar.”

“By the Eight...” Liv took a deep sigh.

 

***

For the Inquisitor and her companions the day, when they set their their way to the College of Winterhold, was far from good: the snow stuck to their faces and blistering cold made them shudder despite their attempts to clothe as warm as they could. Whenever city residents were asked about the destination, they turned as pale like the snow that was falling heavily. That didn't make the day any better. 

« Ugh, why do we always have to go to the places where your own tears freeze within a wink?” whined Dorian.

“I swear,” Cassandra hissed, “Unless you stop complaining on every mission, I'll have your...”

“Clam up you both,” retorted Liv, “We're almost there.” 

As they were walking along an old stone bridge that seemed to have endured through ages full of turmoil she could feel the great winds howling and see the scale of the ancient stronghold where mages dwelt and trained. Opposed to such colossal things, she considered herself insignificant and weak.

Upon their entering, they were greeted by a smiling apprentice who seemed to be slightly awkward before the guests.

“Lady Inquisitor, you have arrived. The Arch-mage is waiting for you in his quarters. I'll show you into.”

The quarters where the Arch-mage resided appeared to be a round half-dimmed chamber with high ceiling and shelves full of old tomes, soul gems, and other bizarre things. 

“Inquisitor,” the Arch-mage took a bow, “I am honored to see you here. There are matters that you wish to discuss, I assume.”

“I am here to offer your mages an alliance with the Inquisition. Besides, there is the matter of the Mark on my hand. I do hope you can tell me something about it.”

“Of course, let me have a look,” he took carefully her hand that begin to glow like a pure emerald, “This magic is old... Older than anything that I have ever witnessed. No doubt, it was bestowed upon you by Akatosh himself, Herald.”

“For pities sake,” Liv rolled her eyes, “Quit calling me like that because I am not the chosen you all believe me to be. I am just a healer who happened to be at that wretched Conclave!”

“Definitely, that is a good start for you, Herald.”

Liv found nothing to do but to grunt out of her annoyance. It had never occurred to her that people could be both stubborn and  thick-headed .

***

“Cassandra,” Liv uttered while dragging a huge sack full of various things gathered from all over the province, “Can we go to the Imperial city now? I've been picking that crap all the week”

“Let me see,” Cassandra put on her glasses and stared at the scribbling diary that she fetched, “Not yet. There are still 150 falmer ears to be collected, 250 hagraven claws, 355 tufts of lavander, 60 pounds of tomatoes, and 125 insignificant errands that peasants can manage on their own but still we have to do them.”

“Why do we even have to do this?” Liv sobbed.

“It makes the Inquisition more powerful.” Cassandra claimed confidently.

***

“We're not afraid of you!” cried out an inquisition soldier to Miraak whose ruby-colored halo was glowing like all consuming fire over the smoldering ruins of High Hrothgar, “The Eighth are with us!”

“You invoke the names that never mattered,” Miraak raised his voice, “Fooled and misled by empty whispers, you have been praying for centuries to the Gods that have never existed. But no more. Once I ascend and usurp the very heavens, this world will be cured of the old lies. My divine will shall extend all the boundaries. Now, behold me reclaiming the glory of those who I deemed to be supreme.”

“The Herald! She's coming!” Another soldier rejoiced as the Inquisitor and her companions appeared on the battle-site.

“Finally, The Herald of Akatosh herself has arrived.” Miraak taunted the Inquisitor as he descended from the ruined tower, “Tell me now: what do you seek to accomplish by stealing something never meant to be bestowed upon you and interfering with my plans? That was most unwise for you have send that twisted world in a turmoil more violent than any war.” 

Taking a long breath, she set free the anger and annoyance that had been brewing inside her for so long: “Listen to me, you poor excuse for a villain! I have never intended to steal anything of your own nor to mess up your wacky plots! I'm fed up back to the teeth with all of you and your denseness! Now, please, excuse me, I'm leaving and you have to find another hero for that foolish tale.”

Then, she  strolled out , leaving Miraak, her companions, and those who witnessed that talk, utterly astonished. Hardly able to bear with an awkward silence that took over the place after Liv's departure, they all scattered to the winds. 

 

 


End file.
